Succubus and Soldier
by lostloveloki
Summary: Her black ten-inch heels dug into his thighs as she slowly pushed herself back along him. She flattened his limb against their bodies, forcing a moan from his needy lips. "No sounds," she instructed, clamping her remaining fingers over his mouth, and stopping her ministrations until he nodded. He adored feeding his fiery goddess. This is all very lemon.


17 nations.

Vanya's lips trailed over the soft swell of her stomach, his teeth dragging over her skin, and leaving a pale white trail before it flushed red. A thin, yet nimble set of fingers found their way into the errant strands of his hair, pulling him lower, forcing him to sit back onto his heels. The rough hand trailed down to his chin, and stroked the stubble softly under his chin, and let her fingers trail up over his moist lips. They parted softly, as his gaze bore into her abdomen, and her thumb pressed into his mouth. Automatically his mouth clamped down and began sucking her thumb, a perverse delight filling his abdomen, as he licked and sucked on her extremity.

17 nations in which he left corpses lying in his wake.

His thumb traced over the gunshot wound of her abdomen, carefully pushing down on the center where the bullet must have entered her. With his other hand he felt the exit wound, and felt the result of the needlework from the Ukrainian government hospital.

She swatted his hands away, pushing them down to her outer thighs were a long white scar greeted him, searching fingers. Like unwanted food that friends thrust upon plates, when visiting them, the scar was her constant companion: unwanted, unneeded, and unavoidable.

16 nations, if the border patrol officer hadn't fallen over the state line into Azerbaijan.

She pulled her thumb out of his mouth and replaced it with her index and middle fingers, pressing them deep into his mouth. She stepped forward, so that her legs were flush against his chest, and his chin pressed into her abdomen. He sucked again, exulting in the strange sensation of being used for pleasure instead of pain, and craned his neck back. Goosebumps rose where his metal arm traced her thighs, and soon the cold metal lost its original cool, replace with the tender warmth of close contact. Her fingers quickly began thrusting into his mouth, setting up a steady and strong rhythm, slowly speeding up.

In ten of these nations, Vanya had accompanied Natalia on missions.

She lowered herself, pushing him further and further back, till his body aligned with the floor, and her knees rest on either side of his torso, her fingers never leaving his mouth. With each and every stroke of her nails against the roof of his mouth, the free weight between his legs grew heavier and longer, inching up slowly, until the flesh lay flush against her back. She gyrated her hips, and watched his eyes bulge as the friction drew pleasure and longing from every portion of him.

"Keep sucking," she hummed, bending forward, pressing her chest to his, and allowing her sultry look to work its magic. A throaty moan escaped him, and she felt her need slowly drip onto his stomach, smirking as the movement of her chest against his drew exhilarating sensations, and caused her body to arch forward.

In nine of those missions Natalia was instructed to seduce her target.

Her black ten-inch heels dug into his thighs as she slowly pushed herself back along him. She flattened his limb against their bodies, forcing a moan from his needy lips. "No sounds," she instructed, clamping her remaining fingers over his mouth, and stopping her ministrations until he had nodded. She began biting his cheekbones, playfully at first, but increasing the pressure until she saw the bite marks in his soft flesh. His hands trailed up her thighs, until they cup her buttocks, squeezing gently, ignoring the pressure of the corner of the carpet, pressing into his back. Natasha said nothing, allowing him to massage her, and tease her by spreading her wet folds open.

"One finger," she instructed, easing off of him slightly, providing him with sufficient wriggle room to sink his index finger into her. For each motion of his finger, she reciprocated in tandem with hers, massaging his shoulder with her free hand.

On three of those missions Natasha fucked her source to get more information.

Eventually she opened up to him; allow three fingers in, to work her. She pulled her hand from his mouth and pressed a solitary finger against his lips, her own quirking a little in satisfaction as she leant forward and offered him her breast instead. Her nails dug into his scalp as he worshipped her with his lips: licking, sucking, biting her. She rest on her lower arms, pressed down on the floor on either side of his head, rocking her body as her core tightened with anticipation.

"Now," she gasped, her red hair falling around his head like a bloody curtain, He shifted his hips, like he had done so many times before, and pressed his tip against her entrance. She rocked forwards and backwards, trembling with each passing moment, before finally pressing back hard and having him fill her as her climax hit. She let him roll her onto her back and thrust into her climax, convulsing around his ram-rod hard limb. He thrust and thrust and thrust, finding that magical spot immediately and prolonging her moment for several minutes, stopping only once he filled her with his promises and secrets, each stroke representing a piece of his soul that he sacrificed into the flesh of the seductress, feeding the succubus, and being thankful for it. He adored feeding his fiery goddess.

All three of those sources didn't survive their encounter with the black widow. No man could touch her without suffering the wrath of the soldier.


End file.
